Ron Weasley and the Blushing Prefect
by Risma
Summary: Rated for innuendo. Ron is marked for service to a powerful wizard but is he the only one? Read & Enjoy!


_This is a tribute to my lil' Ronnikins which Weaver got me for my birthday. No, he's not anatomically correct, but is that what really matters? –Risma_

**Disclaimer: **J.K. Rowling owns all to do with Harry Potter, his friends, family and enemies. This story is for fun, not profit.

**Untitled**

It had been a hectic week, the second week before his sixth year of school. People were constantly coming and going from the Burrow, checking up with the older Weasleys about the status of the Death Eaters and concurring with others about the plans on the defence and protection of Ministry of Magic. At least that is what Ron had heard when he walked past closed doors.

This had given Mrs Weasley the opportunity to put Ron and Harry to work around the house to keep it looking respectable and keep them out of the Order's meetings. Ron was relieved to be put to work as it diverted his concentration to more familiar things like school, Quidditch and, well, house work. Harry on the other hand, had been silent and grim all week and whenever Ron had tried to ask what was bothering him someone always told him to leave Harry alone. He had seen Harry in his blue funks last year and now that You-Know-Who really was alive, Ron could understand his friend's mental absence.

That afternoon his mother had sent the two boys on the superfluous task of de-gnoming. Ron stopped hunting under the hedges for mislaid garden gnomes to watch Harry beside him kneeling at the hedge, staring into nothing.

"I don't think there have been any gnomes here for a leats two weeks," he said. Harry turned and blinked at him a couple of times. "Gnomes? Under the hedge?" he tried to cajole Harry.

"Maybe they sensed danger here," Harry wistfully replied. Ron frowned at his contemplating friend but before he could speak, Charlie stepped up to them. "Hey Ron, Mum wants you to clean up before dinner."

"Again? I already did before lunch?" Ron grumbled getting to his feet.

"Humour her, okay? I have to talk to Harry," Charlie helped Harry to his feet and guided him away from Ron. This was the other thing that really burned him this week. People were taking Harry aside as if Ron was too immature to understand what was going on. Hadn't he and Ginny been at the department as well? Shouldn't they be part of the Order too?

Ron stormed through the kitchen, ignoring his mother as he climbed the stairs to his room, and only when the door had shut did he let out a deafening roar; "AAARRRGGGHHH!" He took three deep breaths and tried to focus on what he was meant to be doing. Grumbling at no one would go no where. He spotted the clean clothes set out by his mother and shrugged off his shirt.

"Ron! Are you – "

He quickly turned at the startled voice to find Hermione staring at him with a hand over her mouth. All the previous anger in him disappeared and he was feeling a bit uncomfortable at the sight of the girl blushing. Part of him was yelling at her the meaning of privacy and to act her age, but the other part of him was chuckling at the fact that Hermione Granger was struck dumb by his improved Keeper physique. Instead he reached for his clean shirt and began to pull it on over his head. Suddenly cold fingers were running down the left side of his torso and he quickly pulled down his shirt to catch Hermione taking a retreated step.

"'Mione?!" he snapped. He could feel his own face starting to heat up at her boldness. What the heck was she thinking? Hermione was turning a bright pink and taking furtive glances from the floor to him, opening her mouth as if to say something and then staring at the floor again. She was acting very peculiar; much like Ginny did when Harry first came to the Burrow. Wait a minute. Ginny was infatuated with Harry at the time. Did that mean –

"Sorry. About the door. Won't touch. Knock first. Going now," she winced at him and ran for the open door only to bump into George who suddenly apparated in the hallway.

"You're not supposed to do that inside the house," Ron sighed for about the thousandth time this vacation. George was only paying attention to Hermione who was ducking her face to hide her blush. "What's going on here?" he asked.

"Nothing!" she replied a little too quickly.

George looked back and forth between the two of them an evil grin growing on his face. "Hey Fred!"

_BAM!_ Fred apparated to his familiar's side: "Hello, hello? Secret Ron de vu, huh?" he chuckled, nudging George.

Ron rolled his eyes; "Get out! Both of you! Out!"

Hermione tried to sneak by but his brothers just would not move. "Well you will leave your door open for peep shows Ronnikins. . ."

Peep shows! He was minding his own business when she started stroking him. "I did not! Hermione walked in!" Ron yelled at them. All the boys turned to look at Hermione who was now glaring silently at Ron from the corner of his room, her arms folded across her chest. What's up with her now? She did walk in!

"Really? Not the kind of behaviour you'd expect from an upstanding prefect," Fred smirked at Hermione.

"Then again, Percy snogged that Clearwater chick?" reminded George.

"Ahh 'tis true. The attractive Weasley gene has been passed down to even the runts of the family," Fred sighed.

"Our little Ronnikins is all grown up," sniffed George.

"It wasn't anything like that!" screamed Hermione from across the room, her hands were shaking at her sides

"What?" asked the twins.

"He's got a tag!" She yelled at them, then quickly slapped both of her hands over her mouth, looking at him in horror. That's what she was all worked up about? That's why she touched him? His tag? Ron could not help but feel a bit disheartened.

"A what?" asked the twins and they leapt onto Ron. George held him down while Fred lifted his shirt unfolding the purple cloth tag sewn into his torso. "What the heck is that?"

"I don't know," said Ron giggled. He was rather ticklish there.

"'Harry Potter'? You're a trademark for Harry?" Fred asked. "When did this happen?"

"Uh… about third year. Don't know how it got there," he said to no one in particular. It had been there for so long he practically forgot all about it, though he did recall feeling self conscious about it in the Quidditch showers.

"Can you get it off?" asked George.

"Don't you think I've tried," he snapped struggling in George's hold. Ron caught Hermione's eye from across the room. She seemed worried and clutched her own side but she gave him a small smile and finally left the room. Did she think he was a freak? Or the tag was some possessive exploit by Harry? Was that why she was startled? He needed to talk to Harry; he knew more about girls than Ron did, or maybe even Ginny - she was a girl after all. Either way he would have to ask later. This week was just too hectic.

"Maybe we can blast it off?" Fred thought out loud.

"BUGGER OFF!"


End file.
